A Second Serenade
by Aurianne
Summary: In which a girl dies, gets reincarnated, and proceeds to wonder who, exactly, had she pissed off because being sent into the world of Fire Emblem: Three Houses seems just a little bit of an overkill. Then again, Rune isn't a quitter. The cards might be stacked against her, but it's all a matter of time before she gets a winning hand. (SI-OC)
1. In Which There is Life After Death

**AN: **Oh hey, it's an SI-OC. I honestly ended up writing this on a whim thanks to me enjoying Fire Emblem: Three Houses and wondering what it'll be like if I toyed around with the setting, so here I am. I can't promise this story will be perfect, nothing ever is, but I'll do my best to avoid the usual SI pitfalls that could instantly make a person click the back button. Keyword being try. I will definitely be having fun with this story though.

Feel free to let me know what you guys think if you gave this story a chance! :D

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

You know, if someone told me ahead of time that a stray bullet was going to send me straight into the afterlife, I probably would have changed into something better. Not only would I save myself the embarrassment of being remembered as the girl wearing a crappy unicorn t-shirt, I'd also look just a little more dignified in tomorrow's newspaper article.

Not that I was in a hurry to bite the dust, for the record.

No, really. I wasn't. Seriously. Cross my heart and hope to—you get the idea. Heh. But if I had no choice _but _to die, and that seemed to be the main consensus here, I might as well look presentable while I could, right?

Considering how I was still around to rethink my clothing choices, though… maaaaybe I wasn't quite dead just yet.

Of course, when I said "around," I didn't mean that I've suddenly gone Walking Dead on everyone and kickstarted the zombie apocalypse that no one believed would ever happen. While that would be one for the books, that wasn't really the case here.

(Damn it.)

Instead, I was somehow given another chance at life, and depending on one's perspective, that was either a curse or a blessing.

I'd say it was a bit of both, really.

How many people could say that they've died but managed to start life all over again, after all? Hell, how many people could even claim that they didn't just get reborn, they actually got _reborn_? That instead of getting sent back to Earth with a clean slate, they ended up somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere magical, yet dangerous.

Somewhere incredible, yet so very alien.

The name's Rune, and somehow, someone decided I was the perfect candidate for reincarnation into this continent called Fódlan.

At least I wasn't wearing that shirt anymore.

* * *

Most stories I've read described the reincarnation process as equal parts boring and traumatic. It was boring because you were basically a prisoner in someone's body for nine months—with no visitation rights—and it was traumatic because it was… well… oh God, I can't believe I'm going there.

Let's just say that, in an attempt to keep things PG, there was a fair amount of, uh, _fluids _involved. The sensory overload after being squeezed through a tight exit could make a person beg to be shoved back into their comfy coffins, and if that wasn't enough, there was also a lot of rage, a lot of confusion, and a hell lot of _who__'s the fucking idiot that decided this is how reincarnation is supposed to happen_.

Huh. Maybe that's why I lucked out. Instead of things going "by the book," so to say, my last memory involved a store robbery and a bit of gunfire. As for the miracle of childbirth? Nope, it's all a big blank.

But if someone were to ask me when, oh when, did I realize I wasn't waiting in line for my slice of heaven in the afterlife? I'd answer it happened when I was about a year old, give or take. That was when my tale began, or more specifically, when shit hit the proverbial fan.

And boy, did it hit hard.

See, it wasn't all that apparent that I'd been reborn at first. Unlike most folks who recognized their predicament from the get-go, I didn't catch on that there was a specific reason why I'd woken up as a baby instead of an eighteen-year-old. All I did was accept the situation as it was; I made a noncommittal noise and proceeded to amuse myself by rolling about.

After all, it hadn't been that long since a bullet sent me sprawling. Wasn't it more likely that I'd gotten stuck in a coma and this was the result? A dream?

Maybe I wasn't shot at the back of the head.

Maybe, just maybe, the bullet whizzed past me instead, and I just needed to see this whole thing through before I could return to the world of living.

Death? Reincarnation? Those might as well be fairytales. Whether or not I dig the concept was irrelevant.

But then I fell off my cot.

And you know what? That actually hurt. Like, my-entire-body-was-suddenly-made-of-glass kind of hurt. That small drop (it was barely a feet high!) set every nerve ending on fire. It didn't feel like I snapped an arm or a leg, thank God, but what the hell, dude?

Dreams—since when where those painful?

…

You know what? I quit. Time to cut this strangely realistic dream short. Gritting my nonexistent teeth, I willed myself to _wake up_, to get out of here and go back to my own reality. No more of this bull, thank ye kindly. Maybe next time.

But then, nothing happened.

Nothing… happened?

Puzzled, I tried again. One moment, two—nope, still no hospital room, or wherever they decided to take my wounded ass. Just the same stone walls and thatched ceiling, plus the blanket wrapping me like a burrito. Which was odd; this worked for me the last time I lucid dreamed. Why wasn't it working now?

Seconds of confusion ticked by. Then, minutes. Maybe even an hour. Yet no matter how long time stretched, I remained lying there on the wooden floor, squirming and waiting for an intervention that never came.

Eventually, I had no choice but to let it sink in.

This wasn't a dream, was it?

The trip to the store, the robbery, and the bullet that struck true—they happened. My being here in the form of a wide-eyed toddler whose sense of agency was stripped entirely—not an accident. And if this was anything like the stories (fanfiction, really) I've read, then that meant…

That meant…

Ah, hell.

Overwhelmed by this discovery and all the implications it brought, I cried. And cried. And cried. Upon hearing me, the woman who practically tore the door open upon thought I was being attacked. She found me on the floor, quickly scooped me up, and after a quick inspection for any scratches or bruises, sighed in relief. She started rocking me, murmuring words of comfort even though each and every one of them was laced with uncertainty.

It wasn't until a few years later that I learned the woman wasn't my mother.

By the time that revelation came 'round, though, orphanhood was the least of my worries.

* * *

So… yeah. I died. Kicked the bucket. Crossed the rainbow bridge. Got demoted to corpse. There was no sense in denying it further, and them's the breaks; I was here to stay. It was sink or swim from here on out.

Surprisingly, once the initial shock's come and gone, there wasn't much for me to grieve about. I could think about my family, but then I'd remember how they valued their work ten times more than they valued their only daughter. They had gotten neglect down to an art form.

My friends, on the other hand, would have been worth a few tears over—except that all of them had long since moved away to greener pastures and none of them seemed interested in being pen pals (seenzoned now and forevermore; what a tragedy).

And pets? Well, apart from that stray tabby I occasionally saw on our doorstep, there wasn't really any fuzzy companions to speak off. Too allergic for them. Such was life. Screw the genetic lottery, though.

If I did have to regret one thing, however, it was the fact that I didn't do anything more with my life. All I'd done was drift from one day to the next, taking pleasures in whatever I could because for the life of me, no matter what I did, there just wasn't anything I was interested in enough to pursue.

No ambition. No drive.

But then, who did I need to impress? Certainly not Mama or Papa. Or the teachers at school who kept mentioning my "behavioral problems" in my report card. Friends? Again, what friends? And don't get me started on my darling family relatives who only showed up when they wanted to mooch off my parents.

There was nothing for me there, in other words. But then…

There could be something for me _here_.

Maybe it was just my death making me reconsider things, but there had to be more to life than just going through the motions until we die, right? What if this was some unknown entity's idea of giving me a second chance so I could find meaning in the things I said or did? To have a better life—to knock people's socks off and have a grand ol' time doing it?

To actually _feel _like I had a life to live?

It would take a metric ton of work just to get where I wanted to go. That's a given, but it wasn't impossible. Couldn't be impossible.

I had to try.

* * *

The little girl staring right at me couldn't possibly be older than four. Pale and in possession of mint green hair that hung in loose curls, her olive eyes held a spark of intelligence that bordered on unnatural. Her cotton blouse was a size too large and hung loosely on her tiny frame, but considering how she lived in a small orphanage where hand-me-downs were a dime a dozen, it was either she wore something or strutted around naked.

That didn't seem like a bad idea, that last one. Mostly because the reactions would be priceless.

She then proceeded to lean close. Too close. At first, it looked as if she was going to share a juicy secret, but then she tucked her hair behind her ear instead.

Her _pointy _ear.

Eying the attention-grabbing appendage, I mumbled something incomprehensible and straightened myself. My reflection did the same.

Alright. Good news and bad news. The good: congratulations, self, your sanity's still as intact as could be. Everything you saw and felt for the past three years (and counting) hadn't been a figment of your imagination, so keep going, you mentally stable person, you!

The bad, on the other hand: I still looked ridiculous, kids still called me "knife ears" when they saw me, and I still had absolutely no clue what mess, exactly, had I gotten myself into because nothing in my life had indicated I was still living on Earth. Which wasn't exactly a complaint, but still.

I mean, just the other day I'd been leaning on the windowsill and watching the puffy clouds float lazily on the bright blue sky. In one moment, all was well, then suddenly there was a lot of roaring overhead, growing louder with each second—

A bunch of wyverns had come and gone before I could let out a gasp.

Not birds. Not even an airplane. Wyverns—large, bipedal dragons that could be mounted the same way you could a horse. And they were heading south for the winter, or so I was told. An older kid saw the same thing when she'd been outside, hunting some rabbits.

Apart from that, there also this incident last year where the orphanage had nearly been set on fire. A pre-teen boy had wanted to skip the tedious process of lighting up the fireplace by conjuring a ball of fire out of thin air, throwing it at the pile of logs, and then missing his target entirely like the dumbass he was. If it weren't for the stone walls and his piss-poor talent at hand-waggling, scorch marks would be the least of his concerns.

The matron's scoldings that night could make paint peel.

But yeah. Magic. _Magic._ You didn't even need a wand if you wanted to summon the elements. Just your hands, your iron will, and lots and lots of practice. Which was _amazing, _considering that the most magical thing I could do on Earth was tie a cherry stem into a knot using my tongue. Boy, that had been the most ragequit-inducing activity I've ever indulged on, let me tell you.

So, taking into account all my unnatural findings, ears included: wherewas this place, and why was everything so… aged?

I shook my head, bringing my thoughts back to the present. That was a good question, alright, but keeping my butt in this room wasn't going to get me the answers I needed. Honestly, this was something I should've gotten over with a long time ago because my being reincarnated meant I'd been self-aware since the day I realized I wasn't dead, but then… ugh. My "formative" years put a new meaning to the word _turbulent_ and there wasn't any room for detective work as a result.

Getting used to a new body and relearning everything that got unlearned, for the record, was _not _fun. I'll never take bladder control for granted ever again.

_Ever._

Thankfully, that was all behind me now. Now, I could walk. I could run, do a bit of reading and writing, and though I still couldn't talk my way out of trouble, I could at least form sentences that everyone wouldn't mistake as gibberish. Something about thoughts being hard to translate into words. Go figure.

Still, intel-gathering was definitely a go.

I gave my reflection on the mirror a nod, turned around, and tiptoed my way of the room.

Huzzah for carpets further dulling the sound of my footsteps; I managed to leave as discreetly as I entered. Technically speaking, this wasn't a room I could enter. Not unless I wanted an earful from the matron (AKA the room's owner) herself.

On the other hand, if the room I shared with the other orphans were furnished just as well as this place was (see: quilted bed, varnished cabinet and bedside table, standing mirror, and curtained windows), maybe I wouldn't be infiltrating areas off-limits to delinquents like myself…

The door was opened and shut with nary a creak, a testament to the room owner's dedication towards maintaining a creak-free door. I emerged into an empty hallway, sighed in relief, and distanced myself from the matron's room until I reached a set of wooden stairs leading downward. My grip on the handrail was tight as I made my slow way towards the landing.

Surprise, surprise, the spacious area designated as the common room was as uninhabited as could be. Not a single kid in sight (not that we're plenty), so chances were, they were taking advantage of Market Day and spending their free time outside until the matron returned with her bags of food, water, medicine, and even first aid supplies.

So, with everyone else busy playing tag, sunbathing, or just breathing in the nice, fresh air, it was child's play to stay away from the group while I did shady things they didn't need to know about. Like looking at myself in the mirror without someone making off-handed comments about my "oddities."

(Wow. That made me realize my earlier attempts at skulking about upstairs was pointless.)

"Okay," I murmured to myself as my eyes swept over the area. "Okay."

The matron's office should be somewhere around here. It wasn't closed—couldn't be closed—shut because its locking mechanism broke, so all I needed to do was search for a broken door that was slightly ajar and… bingo. We're in business.

I looked over my shoulder, confirmed that I was the only living soul within the vicinity (though there was the sound of laughter coming from outside), and slipped inside.

The office was just as organized as I'd imagined. The oak desk in the middle was clean of parchments, with only a fine-looking blue quill and a stoppered ink bottle perched on the surface; the chest on the corner was firmly padlocked (probably because that's where important documents were stored?), and the shelves on the side? They were full of books both thick and thin. Some recognizable, some absolutely not, and some…

Some that I couldn't look away from.

_Introduction to F__ódlan: A Brief History_

It was a standard title for a history book that I could fall asleep to, but there was just something so familiar about the word "Fódlan" that I couldn't put a finger on.

Brows furrowed in puzzlement, I pulled the book out. Thing wasn't even that heavy despite possessing a hardbound cover. A quick skim while sitting on the floor revealed some texts and pictures about the continent and the countries located within it (The Adrestian Empire? The Holy Kingdom of Fhaergus? …The Leicester Alliance?), but instead of feeling relief about unknowns no longer being unknowns, I ended up having more questions than answers.

I snapped the book shut and crossed my arms, letting out a long exhale as I gazed at the bare ceiling.

Fódlan… Fódlan… Where did I hear that word before?

It had to be from my past life. Definitely not a place I've been to before, though, considering how this was A) not a continent on Earth and B) see A.

A fictional place in a novel, then? Hmm… nah. It didn't feel right, unbelievably enough. Obviously not music so that's out, so that left… a video game?

And it all clicked together.

A Nintendo Switch, a game store, and me walking away from one with one hell of a haul in tow. It was all getting clearer and clearer in my head, and yes, _shit_—now I remembered how I holed up in my room the moment I got home, partly to inspect the stuff I bought and mostly to try out the game that's gotten a lot of people excited about. My Switch hadn't been fully charged at the time so I only got to play for an hour at most, but unfortunately, that was also the day when shit happened and the game I meant to play got put on the back burner.

For that one hour, however, I did get a feel of the game's setting, and the first important thing I learned was the name of the… continent…

I smacked my forehead.

Of all the—a video game. Of course I'd get reincarnated into a video game. One I didn't know the full story of, and one that was… probably going to screw me over if I wasn't careful. Wow, I really won the lottery there. Good job, self.

Making sure I had the book securely gripped, I stood up. Maybe the shock will take effect later, maybe it won't, but right now, getting out of here and going back to my room for an afternoon nap was suddenly not a bad idea. Besides, I was four; I could get away with it. Weren't naps something that growing girls needed? Nap, nap, nap. Ahaha.

…Okay, scratch that. Consider me shocked to the bone.

Unsettled at the direction my mind was taking, I went ahead and shoved the innocent history book back into the shelf.

Or at least, I would have, anyway.

"Rune? What are you doing here?"

The matron had returned without me realizing it, and while she didn't seem like she was one sudden movement away from dragging me out of the office, her wide eyes and slack jaw indicated she hadn't been expecting me to be there, either.

Busted.

* * *

Thankfully, my being a four-year-old meant that the excuse of looking for picture books was a perfectly valid one. After a quick word about how some places were off-limits for a special reason, and that I wasn't allowed out of my room for the entire day tomorrow, I was sent on my way to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the day.

My original plan involved going to bed and waking up just in time for dinner. When I entered my room, I had every intention to. I laid down, rolled to my side, and shut my eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

But then I failed.

And failed again.

Eventually, I gave up with a huff and kept my eyes open instead.

So much for wanting to live my second life to the fullest. I wasn't a quitter, of course, but of all games, why did it had to be Fire Emblem? You know, the game where wars always happened one way or another? I could've been shoved into Animal Crossing instead, for God's sake. That certainly would be less stressful!

I never claimed to be a saint in my past life, but certainly I didn't deserve anything like this. Well. Unless I pissed someone off. Unless this was karma getting its due for the store robbery that was partly my fault.

_That's right, buddy. Just keep still, hands where I can see them, and my friend over there won't be blasting your head off. We'll be out of your hair in just a moment._

…

You know what? Fine. _Fine_. Challenge accepted. I was here to stay whether I liked it or not, wasn't I? If surviving and outliving my past self was the name of the game, then you bet your ass I was going to try my hardest to win. I'll be the one giving lemons here, life, not the other way around.

Watch and be amazed.

Of course, just when decided I was going to roll with the punches and counter them _hard_, starting with a half-formed idea of learning combat soon as I was able to, everything started going downhill.

But that, folks, was a story for another time.


	2. Trainings and Revelations - Of a Sort

**Chapter Two**

* * *

If there was a contest made for unruly kids, chances were I'd be bringing home the gold. Not only had I just disobeyed a bunch of do's and don'ts by sneaking out of the orphanage, I'd also done it right after hearing what punishment awaited those caught red-handed.

Kitchen duty. For a month.

I snickered as I disappeared into the surrounding trees, moving deeper and deeper into the woods until the familiar wood-and-stone structure disappeared from view. All this time, the coast was clear; no second set of footsteps, no deep-seated feeling of being watched. You'd think that years and years of pulling the same stunt would make people catch on that my "afternoon naps" were anything but, but nope.

Eleven-year-old Rune evaded scrutiny yet again.

Pffft, marks.

The well-worn path before me practically stretched on forever. Because of the dense vegetation and the shadows cast by the leafy canopy overhead, it was as if there was no end in sight. Take a couple dozen more steps forward, though, and you'll find that a nice little glade awaited those stubborn enough to keep going.

I should know. I came across the place myself a couple years ago.

I finally reached my home away from home, and the sight of it made my smile stretch wide. The area wasn't really much, what with it being nothing more than a space the trees hadn't conquered (in other words, a textbook example of a glade), but lord help me; stepping into it was like stepping into another world. The grass was suddenly greener, the rays of sunlight was more defined, and the sound of rustling leaves? It became more musical with every step.

A girl like me couldn't ask for anything better and this, right here, was _the_ best spot to practice my magic at.

What, you thought I went here for the scenery alone?

Nodding to myself and smacking my hands together, I set my rucksack down and—hello again, old friend—pulled out a nondescript, but well-loved black book.

Once upon a time, the thing used to have a fancy-schamncy title at the cover. It perfectly summed up how introductory a book it was for aspiring mages, but then the passage of time happened, and the once-golden letters had faded into something undecipherable. I think I could make out the word "tome" if I squinted the right way.

But I digress. The book being that way wasn't a bad thing. In fact, the lack of features meant the matron wouldn't notice this book missing from her collection.

I proceeded to sit down on the grass and spend the next fifteen minutes thumbing through the pages. Taking a quick refresher, if you really had to ask, because slinging spells involved just as much reading as it did hand-waving. Possibly even more because apparently, if you didn't know how magic worked on a fundamental level, you might as well call it quits.

At least, that was how I interpreted the whole thing. Still, not only did a wannabe mage need to know how to tap into their magical energy, which everyone had in varying levels, they also needed to learn how to expend said energy so they could manifest glyphs into reality—glyphs that served as tools for the spell they wanted to cast.

And spells? There were plenty of them. Each with their own unique glyph arrangements. Experts could do without, but you gotta admit there was something visually appealing about seeing glyphs appear in thin air.

No wonder they never covered this in detail.

"Alright." I snapped the book shut. Reading anything remotely academic was a boring endeavor, but as they say, the things you did to learn the art of kicking ass. Leaving the book on the ground, I stood up and stepped into the middle of the clearing.

Time to rock, and rock hard. I sharpened my focus to a fine point, envisioned the glyph I spent weeks memorizing, and went to town.

Or at least I would have if I wasn't so bad at this.

Because just like yesterday, and the day before that, I only got as far as making the atmosphere hum with magic before the half-formed glyph in front of me scattered like dust. The blue glow on my hands faded, and all that was left in the wake of that failure was the sharp pang of disappointment.

Just kidding.

I shrugged and tried again.

See, living life in Fódlan meant that not everything was nice and fluffy as a marshmallow. Danger lurked at every corner, ready to blindside me the moment my sense of caution wavered. And with the continent setting the stage for a war that, chances were, would be happening in my lifetime, being one of the casualties was counterproductive to a well-lived life.

In short, I had to learn how to defend myself.

At first I thought of asking for outside help. After all, if I was going to do this, I was going to do this right. Right? Surely Eve, the orphanage matron, would understand that life around these parts wouldn't always be idyllic, and eventually something or someone might think it a good idea to swing by and raise hell.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to, say, have someone from the nearby village of Sauin teach me—and whoever else was interested—some form of self-defense.

Sauin _was _a hunting village, after all. They had to know how to wield a weapon correctly if they wanted to put food on their plates come supper. And considering that we oprhans were taught the basics of wilderness survival over the years (which involved learning how to light a fire, how to acquire drinkable water and edible food, and so on, and so forth), it made perfect sense to next learn how to swing a sword.

…Or go stabby-stabby with a spear.

Alack and alas, no such luck. Her eyes had actually widened in horror at the thought and shut my idea down like a torpedo would a battleship. In her own words, one: I was still too young to be thinking of such things, and two: I should be off enjoying my time as a child instead of worrying about the future.

Do some chores, she said. Mingle with the other orphans. Read a book. Anything. Leave any thoughts of fighting or surviving to adults like her because it was her job to worry about such things.

"Well," she conceded after a beat, "at least for now."

Suffice to say, I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands.

So I snooped around. Sneaked trips to the village to see if anyone was willing to teach little ol' me some combat basics in exchange for my assistance in whatever it was they needed done for the day. Got dragged back to the orphanage for being a "public disturbance," and then instead broke into rooms after serving time in the orphanage as the equivalent of a janitor.

Finally, after liberal amounts of browsing the matron's bookshelves in sheer desperation, I came across that book that pushed me towards the road to magery. An alternative I was happy enough to take.

Coincidentally, that was also the time I discovered my nice little slice of heaven on this fine, fine planet.

Whatever it was called.

But yeah, because of the lack of formal training, I had absolutely no idea how to learn magic the right way. The most I could do was read the book over and over until I understood the basics enough to give spellcasting a go. No doubt a real practitioner of the art would be able to point out how many things I was doing wrong, but you gotta do what you gotta do when options were limited as all hell.

Just try, and try, and try. Keep going through the motions—keep tapping into my own magic, and keep thrusting that hand forward in the hopes that I finally managed to cast that Blizzard spell the book had helpfully included as an exercise.

(There were also pointers for casting Fire, but flames and trees weren't partners in crime unless a forest fire was exactly what I wanted to go for.)

No throwing the towel. No crying, or raging. Take a breather if you failed, but get back up to try again.

And again.

And—

"Whoa!"

It was like being knocked back by a strong gust of wind. By the time my mind caught up to what had happened, I was on the ground muttering a few curse words and grimacing about my now-aching backside.

I stood back up and, after ensuring that no one was around, tucked my disheveled hair behind my ear. Turning to the direction where the unseen force hit me, I readied my accusatory glare…

And promptly sat back down.

There, stuck on a tree trunk, was an ice spike. And like all other ice spikes, it was long, pointy, and successful in piercing its chosen target from end to end without so much as an excuse me. Fine, white mist dissipated into the air as it underwent the slow process of melting, and slowly, ever so slowly, it occurred to me what I had just accomplished.

_Oh lordy._

I couldn't help myself; I grinned. In fact, I practically dashed towards the tree to inspect my handiwork. Then I grinned even wider—the ice didn't crumble at my touch! It remained solid as ever, though growing wetter by the second, and I couldn't have done a better job if I tried.

I was finally heading somewhere.

Holy crap.

"YES!"

I laughed. Did a funny dance. Skipped about, and essentially humiliated myself in front of whatever forest creatures were watching from their hiding spot, basking in the glory of my saccharine success because I had never felt this accomplished in my past life and the present.

Magic. I actually did magic. _Me_.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Just as I considered making another attempt at doing magic, the sky had transformed from a vivid blue to a bruised orange.

Drat. Must've lost track of time.

I sighed in disappointment but went ahead to gather my things. Might as well, really; nothing screamed "vulnerable" like an eleven-year-old in all her lonesome. Especially when evening was fast approaching.

With my trust rucksack hefted over my shoulder, I hightailed it back to the orphanage before the "five more minutes mom" syndrome kicked in.

* * *

"Well, well, look who's finally back."

As it turned out, my attempt at a sneaky re-entry was never meant to be successful in the first place. A tall, light-haired woman in a blue dress at the other end of the hall had been watching me the entire time, leaning against the wall, and very much resembling a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse.

Don't let her twinkling blue eyes and dry smile fool you, though; those were all for show.

Eve, the orphanage matron, had been worried, and color wouldn't be returning to her face if things were otherwise.

"I'm sure you've heard this a thousand times by now," I said, shutting the door behind me with the back of my foot, "but I can explain—"

"Save it."

The woman lowered her hand and moved away from the wall, tossing her long braid over her shoulder. She gestured to a room to her east with a jerk of her head.

"In my office. Now." There was a tone of finality to her words. "And try not to sneak off like you did last time, please?"

And then she strode away.

I let loose the breath I didn't know I'd held and followed the woman straight away.

Eve's office was more or less a room within a room, found right by the corner of the common room for as long as I could remember. Said common room had the tendency to be occupied by a kid or two at this time of the day, and that, in turn, meant that whoever got to spend some quality time with the matron inside her office of doom and gloom, they would always have a captive audience watching them head right in.

"Leave it to knife-ears to shake things up around here," a girl said to her friend in a low voice.

"Well, Rune's always trouble," said the friend in response, shrugging dismissively, "Whaddya expect?"

See? I was righ—

Wait just a minute.

"Tick, tock, Rune," called the matron from the other side of the door.

Damn it.

Forgoing my original plan of giving the brats a verbal beatdown, I instead stuck my tongue out at them like the mature individual I was and slipped inside the office.

* * *

Very little about Eve's office had changed over the years. For one, the large desk in the middle of the room was still home to an assortment of writing materials, and for another, the two bookshelves by the wall were still lined with tomes organized by topic. The iron-banded wooden chest in the corner remained shut and padlocked, albeit beginning to show signs of rusting, and the only recent addition to the entire ensemble was a floor carpet colored a pleasant maroon.

I sat on one of the chairs normally allotted for potential adopters.

"All settled? Door's locked shut? Great. We can begin." Eve stopped resting her elbows on the desk and slouched back in her chair. She crossed her arms. "I'm guessing you have an idea or two as to why we're having this lovely conversation right now."

"Well…" I said, stretching out the 'e,' "I wouldn't call it an idea, exactly."

"Fair enough." The matron gave me a strangely neutral look and shrugged. "Then whatever you think this is, _exactly__… _It's wrong."

The most eloquent response I could give involved several confused blinks.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'd have gone looking for you if you didn't turn up at all. You're also going to help prepare meals for two months—not one, _two_—starting tomorrow, as punishment for not following my rules," she said with easy casualness. "But no. That's actually not what this is about. Be extremely honest, Rune: has anyone outside of these walls ever gotten a glimpse of…" She could only finish her sentence by pointing at her ears.

I'd have to be dumb as rock to not understand what she meant. Still, that wasn't the question I expected coming at me.

"Beg pardon?"

A raised eyebrow. "I'm quite certain I didn't stutter."

Riiiiight. Well, whether I viewed the world with my Fire Emblem-colored lenses or not, no. I wasn't about to prance around and tell every one that I was uniquely special. Or, well, specially unique. That was probably asking for a dragon shish kebab-ing. Not that I knew if I really was a scaly, fire-breathing lizard in human form.

Birth defects _were_ still a thing, right? That's certainly what the kids here thought of it. Hell, they'd sooner pretend it didn't exist unless they felt like poking fun at me. Ankle biters.

And _besides_, considering how my hair was a thick mess of loose curls on a good day, something that became more and more apparent the longer I grew it, it was impossible _not_ to hide the eye-catching appendages. Hell, I even had a pair of purple ribbons keeping my hair in place as insurance.

Girly, but so worth it.

"No," I said. And then, adopting a mock-haughty attitude, I added, "they'd have to be worthy of seeing them first."

Was that a sigh of relief disguised as an amused snort just then, or was I just imagining things?

"Nicely worded," Eve said, lowering her hand from her mouth. "If that's the case, then I want you reporting to me tomorrow at sunrise. Outside. Not here. I think you'll like what I have in store for you." She smiled dangerously. "At least at first."

That was… ominous. More importantly—

"Sunrise?" I repeated weakly. The late riser in me was already paling at the very idea. "As in, the sun-peeking-over-the-horizon kind of sunrise?"

"Yes, Rune, that's literally what a sunrise is," Eve said. Her pitying look expressed just how ridiculous I'd just sounded. "And before you ask, no. You can't argue for a later wakeup call. I'll force you out of bed if I have to."

"You've already been doing that on the daily!"

She smirked. "Oh, I know. But, you see, a little bird told me a bucket of cold water is very helpful in waking up a tired mind. I'm thinking of testing it on a particularly troublesome child whose name may or may not start with an R and end with _overbearingly troublesome_."

I gasped and eyed her warily. "You wouldn't."

"I would. Happily."

Despite the smile, nothing about the woman's face or body language indicated how this was all one huge joke. In fact, she didn't even move; she simply kept staring into my olive eyes until my resolve finally shattered into itty-bitty pieces. Meanie.

"Fine. Sunrise it is," I said in defeat. "Anything else?"

"Nope. That's it for today. I'll ring the bell when dinner's ready." She then motioned to the door with a wave of her hand. "You can leave. But not before returning the book you've been borrowing for a while, of course."

How did she—you know what? I didn't know anymore.

Bidding the tome a silent farewell, I pulled it out of my rucksack, and slid it across the desk and right into Eve's open arms. Figuratively speaking.

"Wonderful. You have my thanks." She made another shooing gesture. "Now go. Scram."

Right, right. I slipped out of my chair, exited the office, and retreated to the Rune GHQ.

It didn't occur to me until much, much later that the matron never revealed why she was suddenly concerned about my "otherness" being outed. Among other things.

* * *

The next morning came all too quickly for my liking. I dragged myself out of bed, performed all my morning rituals with all the grace and speed of a zombie, and was out and about before the matron could consider marching into the room and waking me up in the most dreadful way possible.

So… let's see… Eve never really specified where we were supposed to meet, just that it had to be outside. All I needed to do now was step out of the orphanage, take a nice, deep breath of the cool morning air, and—

"Took your sweet time, did you?"

Speak of the devil. Eve was just past the vegetable garden and the flower bed. As always, her hair was tied into single braid, her arms were crossed, she was staring right at me, and—whoa. I had to give her a double-take because the matron did _not _usually wear loose-fitting blouses, black pants, or knee-high boots.

With the wooden swords she held in each hand, she looked more like someone who was about to start a fight and thrash the competition in the blink of an eye.

She tossed over one of the practice weapons as I approached. I managed to catch the thing without letting it slip from my fingers, but oh, look, the matron wasn't even remotely impressed.

Yeesh, tough crowd.

"Follow me." Eve said, waited for my nod of acknowledgment, and turned away.

At first, I thought she was going to take the dirt path that snaked through the forest and into Sauin Village. It wasn't really much of a trek, the whole thing taking only fifteen minutes tops. But then she took another route entirely.

Thirty minutes of walking later, it became all too apparent to me that our destination was going to be a familiar one.

"Here?" I asked as we stopped.

Before us was an open space that I didn't expect to see again this soon. At least the ice spike that pierced one of the trees was no longer there. Made the poor victim feel rather _holey _in its absence, though.

…Sorry, couldn't resist.

"Yep. Here. Did you really think that no one else knew this place existed?" Eve motioned for me to join her in the middle of the clearing, and I did just that.

"Please tell me we're getting to the part where you explain why this is happening right now," I then said, holding up the wooden sword for emphasis. "I'm starting to wonder if I never left my bed in the first place."

"You'll find out it's not a dream soon enough," Eve said with a dry smile. "But to ease that troubled mind of yours, let's just say that recent events had me reconsidering some things. You're right that you can't grow up helpless, Rune. Not in a world this dangerous."

Wait. Did that—? Did she?

"_You _know how to fight?" I blurted out. Memories of the past several years flashed in my mind, and not a single one of them hinted at any martial prowess that the orphanage matron possessed. "But you're…"

I could only gesture at her helplessly with my hands. She raised an eyebrow.

"Rune, I run an orphanage in the middle of a forest that no Alliance noble cares enough about. _Of course _I know how to stab a sword where it hurts." Eve said it all so matter-of-factly that she might as well be reciting something from a book. "There just isn't usually any need to. Thank the goddess."

Okay, wild. But what about my budding—

"Calm down, you'll also learn how to use your magic the right way. I just want you in top physical shape first. There's no use in throwing spells if you're down and out before you can use one." The question must've been clear as day on my face. "But before we get to any of that, I want to see what I have to work with. Now stand over there."

Eve pointed to a spot several feet away from her. By the time I got myself settled in my nice, new position, the woman had already taken on a battle stance. Again, she was giving me very feline vibes for some reason or another. This mouse might have just gulped in fear.

"I'm not about to get brutally murdered, am I?" I said to her. Something about those words made Eve pause, but before I could confirm I saw what I saw, she'd shaken her head and chuckled.

"No, but you might be sore all over tomorrow. I'll go easy on you; this I promise. Just defend yourself in any way you can. Fight dirty if you have to."

"Even if I look dumb in the process?"

"Even then. We all start somewhere, Rune."

"Fine, fine," I said, holding up my own sword and taking a deep, calming breath. This was undoubtedly going to end in a tragedy, but hey, failures made successes all the more sweeter. It was all a matter of grinning and bearing it until it was all over. "I'll do as you ask."

Signaling my readiness to Eve with a thumbs up and a firmer grip on my weapon, I braced myself for impact.

It only took five seconds.

If me being sent sprawling in the swiftest way possible was Eve's way of going easy on me, no way did I want to find out what she'd be like if she had to fight for her own life. The woman managed to not only disarm me before I could block her (telegraphed) strike, she also made me lose my footing with a sweep of her leg.

Talk about breaking stereotypes.

Also, ow.

"Another round?" Eve said, her hand outstretched. "Who knows? Maybe you can even get a hit in this time."

I took it and was on my own two feet in short order. I grimaced. "I'd rather we just skip to the part where you teach me the basics, thanks."

But instead of frowning in disappointment, she nodded at me in approval.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "The last thing I need are stubborn idiots who think they'll win against a better fighter if they tried hard enough. Determination is nice and all, but at the end of the day, you need to know when it's best to retreat or when it's fine and dandy to keep going."

"And I'm guessing that's one good way to stay alive?" I asked. Now where was that sword—oh. Never mind. Found it. I walked towards the "holey" tree and picked the thing up.

"It worked for me, didn't it?" Eve said from behind. "I'm still here."

Somehow, there was a story behind that. One that the woman wasn't about to reveal anytime soon.

The rest of the morning flew by as Eve had me go through one exercise after another. To say that it was all smooth-sailing would be a lie, but I wouldn't say that it was the worst thing to have happened to me, either.

Eve was no Frederick, if you catch my drift. She made sure my footwork was adequate and I was swinging my sword or lunging forward the proper way, but she didn't make me repeat things until I fulfilled her vision of perfection. In her opinion, it was better for me to grow more in-tune with my body so I knew what I was and wasn't capable of doing.

Still, there was definitely no doubting that my muscles were going to cry in agony tomorrow.

"I still don't get it, though," I later said, collapsing on the grass and wiping sweat off my brow. "Why the sudden change of heart? You said something about recent events being the reason, but why is that enough to head in the opposite direction?" And then, after a beat, "This isn't me being ungrateful, by the way. I just really want to know."

The matron stared at me for a few seconds before shaking her head in a rueful manner.

"You always were sharp for your age. Almost unnaturally so." Eve sat down beside me, pristine in appearance compared to my sweat-drenched self. "Are you absolutely sure you want to know?"

The way she asked that gave me pause, not gonna lie. But it was better to get things over with now than later, right?

"Yes."

Eve shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. She avoided my gaze entirely.

"Someone might be after you, Rune, and you might have no choice but to leave this place and never come back."

I probably shouldn't have said yes.

* * *

**A/N: I swear I've been meaning to get this done before New Year's, but unfortunately I had to redo the second half of the chapter until I was satisfied enough to have it see the light of day. I also don't intend to add a lot of OC's (lord knows there's plenty of FE3H characters as it is), in the future; I just need to get Rune's pre-Academy arc done in the best way I can think of, and Eve's existence kind of turned out to be necessary.**

**That said, I definitely will be moving to the White Clouds portion soon. Current goal is to conclude this arc in three chapters. Weeell, four at the most if the next chapter turned out to be more of a handful, but no** more** than that. I swear. orz**

**Thanks again for the warm reception of my first chapter! It's definitely very encouraging for someone like me. Not having English as a first language can mean that some sentences take several rewrites to come out sounding just right. :D**


	3. The Beginning of an End

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Once upon a time, the goddess and her children lived among the people of Fódlan. They shared a peaceful coexistence forged in wisdom, a unity that resulted in an age of prosperity.

This balance, however, was disrupted when humanity and divinity fought each other in a sudden onslaught. And though it remained a mystery whose hand struck first blood, the conflict that ensued had been so great and terrible that the land was devastated by the end of it.

The people who lost this war were called the Agarthans.

Embittered by this outcome, what remained of them retreated to a place unknown and plotted their vengeance.

Over a millennium had passed since the day they promised retribution.

"So, if you're wondering why you're one of a kind in this day and age, you have those people to thank," Eve said to me once she'd finished her tale. She was sitting right across me on the ground, cross-legged and serious. A soft breeze flew past us, rustling leaves of the nearby trees. "It all goes against Fódlan's established history, of course, and this is just me putting a centuries-old massacre lightly. Very lightly. Fact of the matter is, their descendants are still out there somewhere, and you, Rune, happen to be the same race as those they reduced to near-extinction—"

"Wait. Waaaaait. Are you actually telling me I look like this for a reason and it's because I'm basically descended from a line of divi—"

She flicked me on the forehead before I could finish my sentence.

"Ow! Hey!"

"Take this seriously," the woman said. She pulled her hand back. "Attitude like that, you'll be history long before those bastards realize there's a green-haired, pointy-eared kid running amok in modern Fódlan."

Okay, okay, no freaking out. Geez. I nodded and mimed zipping my mouth shut… which only served to make Eve raise a disbelieving brow.

But then she shook her head and continued.

"Now, I can't say with absolute certainty that I had a near-brush with one of them while you've been out. Disguises are their forte; it's how they've gone unnoticed century after century. Sometimes, though, the facade slips." Her expression grew dark. "Next thing you know, something's amiss, and for one teeny, tiny moment, this perfectly cheerful goody-two-shoes is suddenly wearing a look of malice that's gone in a blink. You get to notice the lack of humanity in their eyes, feel an urge to stay far, far away, and… well. That just about sums up my encounter with a stranger in Sauin."

She shrugged.

"Still, regardless of yesterday being a day of discovery or a day of paranoia, what happened was as good a wake-up call as any. Whether or not they're truly aware of your existence hardly matters now; preparation for any eventuality is key if you're to live for years and years."

She'd left it at that and drew that first ever morning training session to a solemn close. Any questions I posed, she refused to entertain, making the trip back to the orphanage a long and silent one.

But even to this day, there was one thing that continued to gnaw at me.

_How had Eve known all of this?_

* * *

Mysteries and secrets aside, things really started picking up after Eve took me under her wing. What was once a week of basic exercises transformed into months of constant sparring and practice, and the girl that used to drag her feet towards every training session now threw herself into them with the kind of zeal she didn't think she possessed. She shaped up, didn't ship out, and believe it or not, she even kept coming back for more.

Let's just say I was a glutton for progress. Even if I had to say good-bye to my free time. And my social life.

That last part was a lie, by the way. I had no social life.

Anyway, the year 1170 had soon whizzed by. Whatever danger Eve spoke of didn't come to pass, but as much as I'd like throw confetti and do my own thing again… I had to take a rain check. It was continued spell-slinging and weapons-handling for me, moving from the elementary stuff to the far more advanced. And discovering some things along the way. Crazy things.

But then the next year passed without any kind of fanfare.

So did the next.

Time passed, and passed, and passed, and somehow it was now the 13th day of the Blue Sea Moon, year 1174. That was… how many years? Oh, right—four. Four whole years of a boatload of nothing happening.

Not that I was asking for a skewering, mind. Or, well, a one-way trip to the afterlife of my choosing (a grassy meadow with lots of dogs and cats).

Yet still…

If there really was a group of people who'd stop at nothing to exact revenge on anyone remotely related to the goddess and her children, wouldn't it make more sense for them to be more proactive about doing continent-wide sweeps from time to time, cloak-and-dagger style, to finish what their ancestors started?

This couldn't have been a very elaborate setup by Eve to get me to stop fooling around and treat everything more seriously, could it?

On the other hand, maybe I was just overthinking things. Here I was, hale and hearty since the day I was born, and instead of accepting that as a silver lining, yours truly was having doubts. Doubts about the threat my teacher-slash-guardian spoke of. Doubts about pretty much everything she told me—minus the children of the goddess part.

Sure, the history books I perused in Eve's office didn't mention anything about a centuries-old massacre, just the formation of territories, establishment of law and order across Fódlan, and so on, so forth. Standard world-building stuff. Skimming over the only religious text in her collection, on the other hand, revealed that there was only one goddess in existence—and no, she never produced any children, let alone created one. The angry Agarthans who massacred my supposed ancestors were as good as written out of existence, but…

Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason why Eve knew of a past leagues different from what historians presented.

She couldn't have been lying about that part, at least. Not when I was a walking, talking contradiction to this society's established canon.

Still, I should probably double-check some things with her.

Just to be sure.

* * *

The day of reckoning started normally enough. I rolled out of bed, breezed through my morning ritual, and stepped out of the orphanage with a yawn and a stretch of my arm. The great outdoors was still shrouded in darkness, which was just about as alarming as watching grass grow, but a quick glance at the purple-hued sky revealed that the sun would soon be making its grand entrance like the diva it was.

Punctuality, thy name was Rune.

I grinned and made my way to the forest clearing, humming a Fire Emblem-ish tune the entire time. Disappearing into the trees like that when light was currently a rare commodity would probably be considered a recipe for disaster, but then, _ahem_, you're looking at a veteran here. I had the path memorized like the back of my dainty hand. Heck, it didn't take long before I reached my destination with nary a scratch.

'Course, that little moment of victory just had to be shred to pieces by a problem that immediately became apparent.

I groaned.

"Really, Eve? _Really_?"

My combat instructor was nowhere in sight.

Knowing that a response wasn't one I'd get anytime soon, I stepped into the middle of the clearing and scanned my surroundings.

Alright. So. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary here. The nighttime music was dying out, the darkness was slowly receding, and the surrounding trees were… being trees. The only thing missing here was the woman who was always first to be present, no matter how early I was, and let it be established that today was definitely not one of those days when she let me practice all on my own.

I mean, yeah, sure, I did have more of that independent studying stuff lately because it had been decided I was old enough to not be "constantly babied." But then… come on. If there was one thing Eve made clear last night, right before I retreated to my shared room, it was the fact that she was going to oversee my morning training today.

_So try to be impressive tomorrow, alright, Rune? _Those were her exact words, see?

So for Eve—for prompt, be-late-or-get-hate Eve to be missing…

Something was definitely up.

On the other hand, this situation didn't quite require the medieval equivalent of pulling out a smartphone and dialing an emergency number, either. At least not yet. So, if I could warrant a guess, the reason why my esteemed combat instructor being MIA was—

Hold that thought.

I did a back handspring right as someone burst from between the trees and struck where I'd stood.

"Yup," I couldn't help but mutter as I straightened up, raising my fists and feeling really, _really_ naked without my training weapon. "Right on the mon—ah, crud."

My assailant rushed at me again, this time sending a flurry of strikes my way. Eep. I ducked the first, I sidestepped the second, and for one moment, I even twirled like a ballerina just to avoid the third—the amount of footwork I'd employed just to avoid getting bruised by a dull bronze sword was insane. Had I really come so far?

Apparently I had, seeing as I was still able to avoiding slash after slash without falling on my butt.

_Okay_, I thought. _There__'s_ _only one person in this side of the Alliance crazy enough to ambush her own student._

The sudden flash of light—of a symbol resembling a star with an overarching crescent that kinda looked like a crown—in front of me was all I needed to know that there was no way Eve was hitting me with her next blow, so I took advantage of the sudden speed boost by leaping back and then shooting off several retaliatory ice spikes with a wave of my arm.

This, in turn, caused Eve to focus on dodging them instead of attacking me; she even managed to slice one apart like the showoff she was. Perfect, really. That moment of distraction was all I needed to make my escape to a safer distance.

Crests. However the hell they really worked, what a godsend.

"Oh, haha, Eve, very funny," I finally said, crossing my arms after no other attacks followed. "That's a pretty premature birthday gift you've got for me."

The woman snorted in response and straightened herself.

"Please. If morning ambushes are your definition of a gift, I should skip on getting you one tomorrow," Eve said. She shook her head, then shrugged. "It was high time I saw how well you respond to surprise attacks. You'll be happy to know that you've met my expectations."

"But…?"

"But remains to be seen if you can deal with multiple opponents and not lose an arm. Or a leg." She smirked. "And speaking of multiple opponents…"

She tapped her chin in sudden contemplation.

"Maybe I could arrange something if I talk to the right contacts."

Um. That was a very sinister glint in her eye just then.

"Or maybe you could… not do that and leave my sanity intact?" I offered as an alternative. Say what you want about my willingness to learn new things, but the idea of having to bat away several Eve's at the same time was something I—and my current combat experience—couldn't handle. At least not yet. I offered her an uneasy grin and then _kinda-sorta_ made a few steps back. "I'm very, _very _sure that's something we can tackle in the near future, but right now there are _much_ more important things to focus on. Right?"

She stared at me for a moment.

"True, I suppose," Eve finally said. She proceeded to pull off the training sword strapped on the other side of her waist. After gauging the distance, she tossed the blade over to me.

I caught the thing by the hilt, no problem.

"We can work on your ambidexterity," she finished. "You lose points for using your dominant hand, by the way."

"My dominant—wait." I blinked. Then my jaw dropped. "What?!"

"You heard me."

"That was a perfect catch! Come on!"

"Worthy of a bard's tale and all that, I'm sure." She smirked even more. She pointed a finger at me. "But you, _Runey_, can't deny the fact that you still need a backup plan if someone decides to cripple your sword arm. Remember last year?"

Whatever retort I had died down (especially the one about that stupid nickname), and my right hand twitched at the memory the woman summoned. With great reluctance, I nodded.

Eve, of course, was referring to the time when I broke my wrist in a training accident. Long story short, I'd been practicing some acrobatic maneuvers that I'll admit was probably too flashy to use in actual combat, and one of them had resulted to my right hand getting bent so horribly that the next several months were spent redoing basic combat using my left.

Yeah, it turned out that healing magic could only do so much when broken bones were involved.

"Message received. Geez." I grimaced. "What, are yougonna make me deflect projectiles again, too?"

A Cheshire cat grin. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be fun to get turned into a pincushion."

"I could turn into a dragon and eat everyone before they can attack me. That'd be fun."

"Do it successfully, and I'll believe it."

Ouch. Got me there.

"I'm working on it," I muttered and left it at that. Eve took that as our cue to start our warm-up exercises (as if the earlier surprise attack wasn't exercise enough), and several physical exertions later, my right-handed self was fending off strikes using my left.

She really was serious about the whole ambidexterity thing.

"You know," I said after blocking a swing that, in a wartime scenario, would have ripped my stomach open. My legs and arms shook from the force—but I managed to hold steady. Go me. "You never did mention how you knew all of this."

Eve let me push her blade away, eyebrows raised as she avoided my counterattack as naturally as she breathed. "You may want to elaborate."

"Well…" Lowering my sword, I jerked a thumb to myself. "You knew what I really was." Then I gestured to basically everything around me. "You knew an alternate version of Fódlan's history, knew that a group of crazies exist somewhere out there—crazies looking to drop people like me faster than I could drop hot coals—and you basically somehow knew a lot of things that hasn't gotten you thrown in a madhouse. I mean, other than my existence, there's no proof that this world isn't what every other person think it is."

The blank look perfectly asked the question, _And what, pray tell, brought this on?_

I gave a helpless shrug. "The questions in my head won't quiet down. Plus, you gotta admit it's been quiet since that scare you had."

That made her lips curl into amused smile. "Starting to get paranoid, are we?" Then she shook her head and gestured for me to raise my blade so we could do some more sparring. I didn't. She clicked her tongue. "Really, Rune, there's no point in pursuing this. Who I am and how I came across the information I have doesn't matter. What does is that I'm here to make sure you don't get into deep trouble just because you happen to be born what you are."

Which was nice of her, but that didn't answer the question of who was she, exactly, to be that concerned over someone she had the option of dumping onto someone else's lap and calling it a night. _Especially_ with the things she knew.

On second thought, maaaybe that wasn't the right way to put it. Her running an orphanage meant she'd be a hypocrite if she left me alone in the forest where she found me, right? Then there was also the fact that I was indebted to her for basically helping me live this long, which _should_ be reason enough not to question everything unless I wanted to lose what I currently had. And yet…

Could I really keep going, knowing that there were things I might not be aware of but needed to be? When was the last time I wasn't being pushed and pulled?

Somehow my expression must've betrayed all my thoughts because Eve then stared at me for five whole seconds, sighed, and lowered her own weapon.

"You're not letting this go this time, aren't you?"

I twirled a lock of mint green hair around my finger. "I mean, I did just spend four-ish years following everything you said. Without complaint."

"And that's reason enough to come collect what you _think_ is your due?"

"Nope." I offered her a toothy grin. "But you know me, ever the opportunist!"

Eve threw me the most unamused look she could muster, but around ten seconds later, she gave in. Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. She probably would have raised her hands in defeat if she wasn't holding anything. "You know what? I can't run forever. Fine."

Not gonna lie, the taste of disappointment had never been so bitter—

Wait. Waaaait.

"Fine?" I repeated, incredulous.

"Yes, _fine_," she said, though it was clear from her expression that this decision was made under… what was the phrase? Oh, right. Under duress. She rolled her eyes. "Of course, if you'd rather not find out that the only reason I know all of 'this' is because I used to be part of the team who hates your guts, so to speak, then that's fine by me."

Huh. That explained some things, actually.

…Um.

I made an involuntary step back. My olive eyes went wide as plates as I regarded my combat instructor with the kind of shock I usually reserved for bingo wins… which I now missed. Crud.

Still, no wonder she preferred keeping things hush-hush.

* * *

Long story short, Eve was exactly what she said she was: descendant of the Agarthans, agent of vengeance, and one traitorous scum with more worth in death than in life. She held no love for the atrocities her people committed in the name of a questionable cause, and the moment she saw her opportunity to pack her bags and run like hell, she took it.

Let's just say she wasn't gonna be getting much of a welcome back party if she ever decided to return.

People would, after all, be way too shocked to hold one when she was supposed to be buried six feet under.

"You… faked your death?" I couldn't help but ask. Eve scoffed and crossed her arms.

"That's an insulting way to put it. It was more along the lines of leading my executioners on a merry chase across Shambhala after one too many acts of treason, letting them catch me, and then offing myself in a magnificent display of forbidden magic. Magic that turned out to disguise what I was actually doing: sneaking away to the exit. Idiots."

Sneaking away from the clutches of indoctrination, more like. Either way, by the time Eve stopped giving me glimpses into her past, I was nothing short of speechless.

Well, okay, I was mainly rendered incapable of speaking because the woman decided to prove she wasn't pulling my leg by showing hints of her true appearance—deathly pale skin, golden eyes, a mark on her cheek that resembled an upside down lightning bolt—and that was something I was _not _ready for, but still. Words were hard to come by as I processed everything she said, and all I could do was stare and stare.

"Look," Eve said several seconds later, pushing herself away from the tree she'd been leaning on. For a moment there, I actually forgot that we were still smack dab in the middle of a forest. "If you'd like to spend the rest of your day processing everything, you're more than welcome to. I'll be here for you either way—I meant it when I said that the only thing that's important to me now is making sure you have the support you need to keep living and living in a dangerous continent like this one." She paused. "Well. At least until you can go off on your own."

And that was actually what I didn't get. I said as such.

"Maybe you'll want to elaborate on that, Rune?"

I was more than happy to. "You've been going of your way to help me out, I mean. And like, I know I wouldn't have gotten this far if not for you, but there's being responsible for one of your own… kind of… and then there's being, y'know"—I gestured to her with both hands—"being _you_."

One of these days, I should really widen my repository of adjectives.

Eve managed to comprehend what I meant anyway. Somehow, the way she looked at me in the eye was more than enough to send me uncrossing my legs and standing up like a squire called to attention. "Would you believe me if I said I'm doing this for purely altruistic reasons?"

Eve. Generous. I couldn't help but snort. "When wyverns talk, maybe."

"Good answer." She smirked, drew close, and stopped within arm's reach. "I'm definitely the least selfless person I know."

Next thing I knew, I was being patted on the head by the woman. It was an action so unexpected that I froze and let the strange display of affection happen. And it wasn't even my birthday.

"Eve, what—"

"Suffice to say that, life's complicated and sometimes some things are meant to be atoned for," she said, pulling her hand back and letting it fall to her side. "Make of that what you will, kid. Just to be sure to come back in time for dinner later."

Then she turned on her heel and walked away with a parting two-fingered wave. Just like that.

…

Right. Well. If Eve's intention was to leave me staring at her retreating back and poring over each and every word she'd said, she definitely succeeded. You'd think that living a second life as a mystical being (pfft) in some kinda fantasy land would open my mind to many possibilities, but nope. There was a rug underneath me, and it was still pulled hard.

I did get the answers I needed, though. That was a plus, right? I could now move past this and continue tempting fate by living and living without getting ganked—sorry, jumped—by mole people. I'd strike out on my own, get as far away from Fódlan as possible, and live out the rest of my days wondering how who in their right mind decided that a brat like me would make a great manakete in a game I had no knowledge of.

A tidy end to a messy story. And yet…

Why did it feel like knowing the score was only just the beginning?

* * *

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Somehow, an afternoon of distractions became an evening of dinnertime awkwardness. An evening of dinnertime awkwardness became a night of insomnia, and a night of insomnia became… actually, that was it. Time slowed to a crawl once again, and here I was, lying on my side for the nth time.

Sleeping. For an act that required no more than a pair of shut eyes and a still body, it sure was hard to come by.

_Anytime now, self. _

_…_

_Yeaaah, no. This isn't happening._

Giving up on my attempts at a restful slumber, I threw aside my blanket and sat up, rubbing my face and biting back a frustrated groan that would have roused the other inhabitants of this room.

Sometimes, you just gotta know when to fold 'em. If I couldn't sleep, then I couldn't sleep. The only problem was that I didn't know if this happened because today's revelation continued to have me reeling, or because my turning fifteen meant I'd soon be finding out if I'll be dropping dead the moment the clock struck twelve.

I mean, call it illogical or whatever, but what if I wasn't supposed live this long and the powers that be decided that I've played this game long enough?

"Yeah, no. Don't even go there," I muttered to myself, slipping out of bed.

Maybe all I needed was some comfort food. Like bread. Or cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. Sleep was imminent with a full tummy. Right? 'Course, it was late and there was a curfew in place, but it was easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. Eve was more than welcome to kick my butt for being a pantry thief tomorrow. Wouldn't be the first time.

Decision made, I tiptoed my way past the other beds and stood before the door. Slowly, gently, I swung the door open, and resisting the urge to hum something out of a spy movie, I slipped into the hallway leading towards the stairs. Although the lamps on the wall were currently devoid of light, the moonlight shining through the windows was more than enough to keep the path ahead illuminated. It didn't take long before I reached the wooden stairs without tripping on anything.

A small but excited smile spread on my face. Now for the good part—I perched myself on the banister and slid all the way down.

Like riding a roller coaster, only ten times more dangerous.

Very fun.

Seconds later, my feet were safely on the floor again. I straightened my nightdress, walked towards the common room, and gave my surroundings a quick sweep. Not much to notice in the dark, save for the faint light coming from Eve's office, but I was good to go. For the most part.

I took a deep breath.

Right. Okay. That obviously occupied office wasn't exactly what I'd call an obstacle, but getting past the place without being spotted would be nice. After all, being caught meant disaster for miscreants like me. Disaster that involved a look of sheer disappointment from the woman who taught me all things stealth. Breaking curfew was a no-no, but if I was gonna be up to no good anyway, she'd rather she didn't catch me because that would be a testament to how well I'd been learning her lessons.

So yeah, no pressure.

I squared my shoulders and steeled my nerves. I then began the arduous task of creeping in the shadows, light-footed as could be… which drew to a sudden stop because the voice coming from the office gave me pause.

A stranger's voice.

The need to raid the pantry for a not-quite-midnight snack vanished, now replaced by an urge to answer the siren's call of a piqued curiosity. Sure, there was no telling if I'd be dealing with an intruder or a late night visitor, what with Eve having every right to have her nightly fun if she wanted to, but I was already here. Might as well make the trip worth it. Even if it could potentially result to me ripping my ears off.

I crept closer and closer to the office. Every step made the voice just a bit more audible, more comprehensible. Phrases became sentences, and… huh.

"Don't you think this has gone on long enough?"

It was a man speaking. Or was it a boy, maybe someone close to my age? The near-monotone made it hard to tell. I moved just a little bit closer to the door, which was open wide enough to let any sounds out.

"For the last time, Odesse, now is not a good time."

…Eve?

"Their patience has limits, Nephele—"

"That's not my name."

"—and if you refuse to cooperate, you know what awaits you."

A scoff, and a humorless laugh. What was going on here?

"Ah, yes, because it's always worse-than-death punishments with you lot, isn't it?" Sarcasm dripped down every word. "I recall being given the same damn line four years ago. Guess who's still here."

Four years ago? As in, four years ago when Eve…?

My heart hammered against my chest, and I struggled to keep my breathing slow and even.

"They underestimated you. Imagine, a search party of four reduced to one, and only because you needed a survivor to return with your message. If it weren't for the deal you struck—"

"We wouldn't be talking," Eve finished for him. "Look, I understand that the moment has come for me to honor my end of the bargain, the only thing saving my skin at this point, but I need just a bit more time. I surrender the girl now, and then what? You lose a test subject ten seconds into whatever experiment it is she'll be subjected her to?" She shook her head, or at least that's what I envisioned her doing. "You can't possibly be willing to take that gamble when there are hardly any other _volunteers_ to take her place."

The tense silence was practically confirmation in itself.

"Exactly. So with that in mind, why don't you do me a favor and scurry off? Inform your esteemed colleagues that I have the matter well in hand and they can expect to get the brat in the near future. Try to pry the girl away from me, however…" Her voice grew dangerously low. "You'll be returning with nothing but a heartless corpse."

At this point, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to cut my losses and go back to bed, forgetting this freaky conversation ever happened. Not only would I be doing my frayed nerves a favor, I'd also be giving myself the chance to continue living life without making my brain explode into confetti. The things Eve said were enough to send chills down my spine—to make me question which, exactly, was the truth or the lie at this point. It didn't take a genius to figure out which lucky girl was being referred to in that conversation of theirs.

But then I remained frozen on the spot.

"Such bravado," Odesse said, not the least disturbed. "But if it's a message you want delivered, then a message they'll receive."

"Not a message. A promise."

"One you have no intention of keeping?" A pause. "You're glaring, but we both know you never do things without reason. What are you really planning, Teacher?"

"Something possibly suicidal, and something you needn't concern yourself with." Eve then gave a heavy sigh. "My turn. Why are you _really _here, Odesse?"

The answer came easily. "To send a message, of course. And to warn a friend."

The woman scoffed. "Spare me. As far as our people are concerned, there are no such things as friends. Only allies." Eve then gave a bitter laugh. "Just go. You've done your part. If I really did teach you something of value, you'll know to stay out of things that won't end well for those involved."

"Perhaps," Odesse said. The sudden hum and tingle of magic in the air could only indicate that the beginnings of a spell was being cast. I shivered. "Try to be careful then. Even the greatest of schemers are prone to failure."

There was a flash of light that made me shut my eyes, and then, silence.

Well. If this wasn't a good time to know what's what, I didn't know what was. I straightened myself and moved to open the door—

"Just go to bed, Rune," came Eve's weary voice. "I'll explain myself tomorrow."

So much for that. Then again, it wasn't like I knew what to tell the woman anyway. Wow, gee, thanks for making me doubt your integrity again or something along those lines? Hell if I knew. I retreated to my room instead.

Somewhere in the orphanage, a clock struck twelve.

* * *

**A/N: Okaaaay, this took way too long and it's probably not my best work, but I tried my best given present circumstances. Turns out I won't be able to conclude the pre-Garreg Mach stuff until next chapter or so, so... whoops. xD  
**

**In any case, feel free to let me know what you guys think! Hopefully I didn't do too badly with this one, haha. I'm just gonna hope I didn't write myself into a wall this early on.  
**


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